


may we stay lost on our way home

by growlery writes (growlery)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Magic Reveal, Mutual Pining, au after 3x03 - gwaine stays in camelot, canon-typical anachronisms, soft romo nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery%20writes
Summary: Merlin has a very small bed and he wouldn’t hear of Gwaine sleeping on the floor, which means that they spend every night wrapped around each other. Gwaine’s luxurious hair tickles Merlin’s face, and he smiles softly at Merlin first thing in the morning every morning, like there’s nothing and no one else he’d rather see.It’s agony. Merlin’s not sure how much longer he can take it.





	may we stay lost on our way home

**Author's Note:**

> for 100prompts: stay. i rebelled violently against this idea when it first occurred to me, many months ago, because it is 2019 and i don't want to encourage myself having feelings about this show. but my love for gwaine/merlin has never died, and against my better judgement, i wrote it anyway. i hope the five people who read it enjoy it. 
> 
> title is from come on by panic! at the disco and fun., which is so much a gwaine/merlin song it hurts me a little. (a lot.)

It turns out it's actually not that hard to hide someone in Camelot, magic or no magic. It's not like that many people come to Gaius's workshop, certainly nobody from the palace, and no one’s exactly poking around the living quarters. 

Uther forgets about the whole banishment thing after a few weeks, anyway. Merlin suspects this for some time and then confirms it by very casually dropping Gwaine's name in earshot of the king, earning only a baffled look from Arthur and a contemptuous look from Uther. So, the usual.

"So, the usual," Gwaine says, when Merlin tells him this, and Merlin grins. 

Gaius hums, unconvinced. “You should stay with us a while longer,” he says. “We should not take risks with your safety.”

Gwaine looks at Merlin. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay,” Merlin lies, because Merlin has a very small bed and he wouldn’t hear of Gwaine sleeping on the floor, which means that they spend every night wrapped around each other. Gwaine’s luxurious hair tickles Merlin’s face, and he smiles softly at Merlin first thing in the morning every morning, like there’s nothing and no one else he’d rather see. 

It’s agony. Merlin’s not sure how much longer he can take it. 

“I'm not sure how much longer I can take this,” he tells Gaius once Gwaine has gone to do whatever it is he does now that he's confined to a single space; Merlin hasn't asked. Merlin should ask. 

Gaius gives Merlin his most pointed Gaius look, and Merlin shrugs. “It's so hard, hiding… the magic.”

“The magic,” Gaius coolly repeats, “which you manage to conceal from far more than one single individual every day.”

“Not very well,” Merlin says, because Gaius can't really disagree with him on that point. Gaius is unmoved. “Anyway, it's- it's different.” 

Gaius moves his eyebrows in an _explain your nonsense, Merlin_ sort of way, and Merlin sighs. He can't explain his nonsense, is the problem. Merlin’s never exactly happy about having to hide his magic, this huge, important thing which is less a part of him and more the heart of everything he is. But with Gwaine, it's- 

Gwaine’s not from around here. He hasn't had the fear of magic drilled into him from the day he was born, and Merlin thinks - hopes - that he'd be all right with it, if Merlin told him. In Merlin’s wildest, most foolish dreams, Gwaine is a lot more than just all right. Not just about the magic, but, well. That's why they're dreams. Merlin is allowed to have dreams. 

“He's… always around,” Merlin says, and he knows it's flimsy, but it's far less embarrassing than admitting his expansive and potentially life-threatening feelings to Gaius. “I can never just- relax, be myself. I'm always on guard around him, and I can't-”

There's a creak, and Merlin's head whips around to see Gwaine attempting to back out of the room. Something flashes over Gwaine’s face. It’s not anger; it’s something so much worse than anger, and the bottom drops out of Merlin’s stomach. 

“Apologies, gentlemen,” Gwaine says, with his most wooden smile. “Didn't mean to disturb.”

“You're not disturbing,” Merlin says quickly, “Gwaine, I-” 

“I'm usually better at telling when I've outstayed my welcome,” Gwaine says, still with that terrible smile. “Thanks for your hospitality. I'll be out of your hair as soon as I've packed.”

With a nod at Gaius and the barest approximation of eye contact with Merlin, Gwaine ducks out of the room. Merlin’s frozen in place for one awful second, trying to comprehend the fact of Gwaine leaving, but it won't coalesce into truth in his mind. It's just so _wrong_. 

The only thing worse than having Gwaine around all the time, it turns out, would be not having Gwaine around all the time. 

Gwaine’s packing up his meagre possessions, his back to the open door, when Merlin catches up. Gwaine’s entire body tenses, before very deliberately relaxing. A moment later, he turns; the smile he has for Merlin almost looks real. 

“Come to help with all this stuff?” Gwaine jokes, and Merlin says, “Please don't leave.”

The smile wavers. When it comes back, it’s all wrong. “You can't be yourself around me,” Gwaine says. “I'll not put you through that any longer.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“It's fine,” Gwaine says, his mouth twisting. “Though I wish you’d mentioned something earlier. The last thing I want-” He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “The last thing I have ever wanted to do is hurt you, Merlin.”

“You haven’t,” Merlin says, softer than he means to. “You’ve never. You’ve only ever been good to me- to us.”

“Regardless,” Gwaine says, his shoulders tight with a tension Merlin wants desperately to smooth away. “My presence here is hurtful to you. You have been so kind as to let me stay, but this is your home, and I-”

“It’s your home, too,” Merlin says, and he’s outright pleading, now, he can hear it in his voice, and he absolutely does not care. He opened a chasm between them, and he will do anything to close it. 

Gwaine looks away. He laughs, but it’s small and pained, nothing like the bright, joyous sound that Merlin loves so much. 

Because Merlin does love it, and everything else about Gwaine, and- and Gwaine. He loves Gwaine. 

Fuck, he’s an _idiot_. 

“I don’t have a home, Merlin,” Gwaine says kindly, like it’s a fact, like it’s nothing, like Merlin’s heart isn’t breaking for him. “It's time I moved on. It’s not like there's anything here for me.”

“There is,” Merlin says. He swallows, can't quite dislodge the lump in his throat. “Gwaine. Please. Listen to me. You didn't hear what you think you heard.”

“It sounded clear enough,” Gwaine says, the smile just gone now, and Merlin's a fool, he's so fucking stupid, but if Gwaine leaves now there’s a very real chance Merlin will never see him again, and Merlin- Merlin can't exactly lose any more, here. 

“You didn’t hear this,” he says quietly, and then he opens his palm to a tiny ball of fire. 

Gwaine stares. Merlin can't catch his breath for a second. He closes his palm. 

“Surprise,” he says weakly. 

Gwaine’s still just staring at him. Merlin swallows. He might have made the worst mistake of his life, but he can't bring himself to regret it. 

“It turns out it's a hard thing to hide from someone you share a room with,” he says, and Gwaine shakes his head like he's trying to clear it. 

“I- of course,” Gwaine says, which is not telling either way on whether Merlin's about to be turned in for treason. “You didn't have to tell me, but- thank you for sharing your secret with me. I know what it costs you.”

Merlin blinks. None of his dreams explored this particular scenario. 

“You needed to know the truth,” he says, and shrugs, a little helpless. “I couldn’t let you just leave.”

Gwaine’s face goes so soft something in Merlin aches. 

“Please don’t leave,” Merlin says. 

Gwaine’s shoulders have loosened, but Merlin still wants to touch him, always wants to be touching him but especially so, right now. He takes a step forward, and tries not to feel too relieved when Gwaine doesn’t step back. 

Gwaine actually moves towards him, after a second, just as tentative as Merlin had been. He’s not smiling, but there’s something in his eyes, the set of his jaw. 

“Merlin,” he says, and Merlin can hear a story in Gwaine’s voice, his own name, and he’s so, so tired of being afraid. 

“Gwaine,” Merlin says, a helpless smile breaking out on his face, before he closes the distance between them. 

Gwaine shudders when their mouths meet, and for a second Merlin thinks he’s got this horribly wrong, but then his hand curls around Merlin’s neck and he’s pulling Merlin closer, closer, until Merlin can feel him everywhere, the burning warmth of him through their clothes. It’s so much he has to break away for a second to catch his breath, his forehead tipping forward to rest against Gwaine’s. 

He feels Gwaine move to replace his forehead with his mouth, exhales shakily at the brief press of Gwaine’s lips against his skin. When he opens his eyes, Gwaine is looking back at him, serious but with something of a smile at the corner of his eyes. 

“Okay?” he asks, soft, and Merlin huffs a tiny laugh. 

“More than,” he says, and the smile breaks out clean and clear on Gwaine’s face. “Just, I have a bed. It’s right there.”

“You do,” Gwaine agrees. “It is.”

“We could use it,” Merlin suggests, and Gwaine says, “We could,” and he’s laughing when Merlin kisses him again, their mouths finding a way to fit together despite it. 

Gwaine goes easily when Merlin presses him back, back, back until they reach the bed and Gwaine falls down onto it, pulling Merlin with him. They don’t break apart, so their faces kind of crash together when they land. It makes them both laugh, and Merlin doesn’t know how he could ever have been afraid of this. He has to bury his head in Gwaine’s neck for a moment, overwhelmed all over again. 

Gwaine turns his head into Merlin’s hair, pressing a soft kiss into it. Merlin breathes in, out, in, out, in, then lets his breath out over Gwaine’s neck, mouthing over the skin of Gwaine’s shoulder. Gwaine makes a soft noise. Merlin wants to hear it again immediately, and then again for the rest of time, but Gwaine’s pushing him gently back before Merlin can do more than think about scraping his teeth over Gwaine’s skin. 

“You have no idea,” Gwaine says, then seems to lose his words as he looks intently into Merlin’s eyes. Merlin sympathises, honestly. He doesn’t think he could speak right now to save his life. “I have wanted this. I have thought about you here so often.”

Merlin makes a noise he should probably be embarrassed by, and Gwaine kisses the end of his nose, smiling. 

“I never thought it possible,” he says. “I couldn’t impose upon you more than I already have-”

“You’ve never,” Merlin croaks out, “you couldn’t. _Gwaine_.”

He presses impossibly closer, like he could keep Gwaine here by the force of his weight alone, like that’s enough to make Gwaine see how wanted he is. He’s not sure it really works, but he thinks Gwaine might get the gist from the way he arches up to kiss Merlin fiercely, his strong arms wrapping tight over Merlin’s back to pull him down, down, as Gwaine rolls against him. They are both wearing altogether too many clothes, still, but it goes through Merlin like fire, like the pure, clean energy of his magic, and this isn’t going to last anywhere near as long as he wants it to. He makes a desperate noise that he hopes conveys this, and Gwaine’s whole body shudders. 

“Merlin,” he says, “Merlin, what do you, what can I-”

“Anything,” Merlin says, all breath, “Gwaine, please-” 

He breaks off with a moan as Gwaine moves his hands to grip the curves of his arse, keeping Merlin in place as he grinds their bodies together. Stars burst behind Merlin’s eyes, and minutes, or seconds, or hours later, he comes, and feels Gwaine do the same. 

Merlin comes down slowly, resting his head in the juncture of Gwaine’s neck and shoulder, aware of little more than the hand Gwaine has rubbing absent circles into his back. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this peaceful. He wants to live in this moment, this perfect shared calm, but all things must end, even and maybe especially this. Merlin lifts his head before he’s really ready to let go; he doesn’t want it to slip away without him. 

“We made a mess,” he says, and Gwaine tips his head forward and laughs, his shoulders shaking. When he lets his head fall back, he’s smiling like the sun. 

“Worth it,” he says, and Merlin grins helplessly back at him. 

“Give me a minute to recover, and I can take care of it,” he says. Gwaine lifts his eyebrows, and Merlin waggles a hand at him. “It’s a cool trick.”

“It’s incredible,” Gwaine says. He’s altogether too serious, too genuine, for what they just did, for how close they still are, and Merlin has to breathe into Gwaine’s neck for a few moments, too overwhelmed to even meet Gwaine’s gaze. Gwaine seems to understand; he’s rubbing Merlin’s back again, nosing into Merlin’s hair. 

“I never thought _this_ possible,” Merlin manages, at length. “I wanted to tell you for so long, Gwaine. I just couldn’t bear it if you- if you-”

His breath catches. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. Gwaine’s arm tightens around him. 

“I could never,” Gwaine says, quiet and fierce, “not for this or anything else about you. There is a sickness in Camelot that it thinks otherwise.”

Merlin takes a ragged breath, then lets it out very carefully. “It won’t always be so,” he says, thinking of Arthur, of the prophecy that he’s staked everything on and clings to with a desperate kind of faith. 

“It won’t,” Gwaine agrees, sounding just as certain. “I will do whatever I can, Merlin. You are not alone in this.”

Merlin has to kiss him then, or he’ll do something awful like cry, or run away, or tell Gwaine he loves him. It’s a little frantic, but Gwaine answers him with unwavering softness, and Merlin almost can’t bear to be held so tenderly, but slowly all the resistance eases out of him like water wrung from a cloth. 

*

Gaius is extremely judgemental at breakfast the next morning, looking between the two of them with his eyebrow arched. He’s mostly directing his judgement at Merlin, which Merlin thinks is deeply unfair; it was Gwaine who hooked their ankles together when they sat down. What was Merlin supposed to do, _not_ hold his hand under the table? It’s like Gaius doesn’t know him at all. 

“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” he tells Gaius, and beside him, Gwaine puts his head down and laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> and then they actually challenge the anti-magic regime instead of being complicit in it, MERLIN, and live happily ever after the end

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] may we stay lost on our way home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19163050) by [sophinisba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba)




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